good vietnamese food? nha.

Yeah, I should have known better than to trust a hyped-up food critic way past his day. Or one simply of his standing – one of the most recognised critics in Hong Kong – as if a restaurant would dare serve him substandard crap! His glowing review of Cafe Locomotive, however, caught our eye. If you’re interested in why, he deemed their beef broth to be as glorious as the ones he’d had in Vietnam. We’re always on the lookout for decent Vietnamese joints in Hong Kong, since they’re few and far between and always erring on the side of inauthenticity. We decided that we’d troop all the way there like lemmings to indulge in the fabled broth.

As is usual with me, I woke up late and took even longer to paint my face; by the time we’d gotten on the bus my mom was fretting over the fact that we’d hit the restaurant during the lunch peak. At 12:45, the place was full, but there were no visible queues or anyone loitering around for a seat. The waitress took our name down and we waited for just 5 minutes before a table was ready.

It looked promising – all airy and with dark wooden furniture, high ceilings and some interesting decor. On a warm winter’s day (?!) in Hong Kong, this is the perfect kind of environment for a laid back lunch. There aren’t very many seats, but at least the high ceilings and semi-al fresco seating helps eliminate any inklings of claustrophobia.
I absolutely loved the decor. It was modern meets traditional – the restaurant itself is based on the story of a street stall based near a train station in Vietnam that would attract hordes of people with their mouthwatering pho, and a gigantic photographic print of the station in question hangs on one wall (as the only photo with the print in it includes my unsightly mug, it is not shown here). The two walls are also lined with luggage racks to simulate the inside of train carriages – charming! If only the food was as inspiring.

The menu boasts ‘authentic Vietnamese beef soup & chicken stock’, and the big seller is the ‘Locomotive signature rice noodle soup’, but we were far from impressed. The stock, to put it bluntly, lacked BEEFINESS – it was also surprisingly sweet, unappetisingly so. Squeezes of lime helped slightly, but overall it was a disappointment, considering this was their supposed selling point. I prefer a simple pho bo, but their signature dish included beef balls, beef tripe and beef tendons. My mom found the beef tendons in the noodles undercooked and bland, and I don’t think either of us touched the tripe – it looked exactly as what we thought it would taste – rubbery and flavourless. I’m tempted to say this was possibly the most underwhelming pho I’ve ever eaten in Hong Kong, but I’m not sure if it’s because of its own failings or due to my high expectations.

Moving on… after a disappointing encounter with a prawn and pomelo salad at Nha Trang earlier in the week, I ordered Locomotive’s version, which came beautifully presented. So pretty that the couple next to us were whispering loudly about it and subsequently asked the waiter to tell them what it was (side note: are Hong Kongers so unfriendly towards each other that a simple question to the table next door is totally impossible?). Its looks, however, belied its less-than-gorgeous taste. I expected a flavour explosion here – crisp, juicy pomelo contrasting with salty-sweet cabbage and carrots, a tang from the limes, a subtle aniseedy kick from the Asian basil… you get the picture. What resulted was a half-hearted assault on the tastebuds from limp flavours and way too much of the basil (bad memories of liquorice allsorts came flooding back…). The prawns were tepid and would have benefited from a bit of grilling; instead they seemed to have just been brought back from the freezer-dead and boiled. What I found at the bottom was a large amount of extremely watery nuoc cham, which didn’t help at all in the flavour stakes.

I was really confused about it all. Alas, Choi Lan, I knew better than to trust you and your smarmy ways. If only I’d read the 37 bad reviews (versus 9 good ones) over at OpenRice beforehand. The common folk are, again, the ones to trust. I always feel sad about writing off a place, especially one as nicely done as Locomotive – but as usual, the food speaks volumes. Sometimes it’s hard to know who’s really right, though (the media are positively fawning over the place), and who knows – maybe you’d like it. Perhaps I’ll give it another go somewhere along the line… maybe.

Cafe Locomotive (Contemporary Vietnamese Cuisine)
11 Wun Sha Rd, Tai Hang, Hong Kong
2882 8227
www.cafelocomotive.com

unbelievable!

Once again I have had to suffer through the ‘it’s not our fault’ simpering of an incompetent waitress. I am now fully convinced that to get decent pho in certain establishments in Hong Kong is to annoyingly order my beef to arrive separately, to avoid anymore pointless arguments wherein the wretched management tries to convince me that they couldn’t do anything about the fact that my pho had once again been served with completely cooked beef. In a restaurant, if I had ordered a steak to be done medium-rare, I would indeed demand it to be taken back to the kitchen if it came to me well-done. Why it should be any different here is a mystery to me. You serve what you advertise, and you do it well. Don’t try to make me eat this rubbish. Why should I pay for something that I hadn’t ordered?

Unbelievable. Unfortunately because this restaurant had scored so low in terms of service and food, it didn’t even cross my mind to note down its name. However I will be going back for this information, to warn any of you visitors to Hong Kong to avoid the place at all costs. To not only serve such tripe, but to question a customer’s dissatisfaction and to answer back with ridiculously illogical excuses is unforgivable. As I told the waitress, I would not be coming back again – a threat said with a smile, which finally led her to bring the complaint to the manager, which in turn led to my bowl being replaced. Only this time by a bowl of noodles with still cooked beef, with a few pink corners again floating above the broth’s surface, but I was too tired to complain again.

The restaurant in question, Viet’s Choice, is located on the 3rd floor of the building on the corner of Hennessy Road and Percival Road, Causeway Bay. It’s next to the RBT cafe and in the same building as Italian Tomato. While Hong Kong may be a mecca in terms of food, its service and sometimes flippant attitude to cuisine can leave a lot to be desired, and a bad taste in one’s mouth.

are you phở real?

One of the things I had been anticipating since my return to Hong Kong was to go back to Phở, a Vietnamese eatery that had opened last summer. It was only last summer that I really began to appreciate Vietnamese food, having never really experienced it before one of my friends dragged me to a down-and-dirty phở joint one night in Causeway Bay.

Phở (what an original name?) is apparently a franchise that began out in America, and finally made its way over here, opening its second branch only this year. It’s hard to google the facts, what with its generic name. The first time I went, I was impressed by their full, hearty broth and crisp, succulent butter garlic chicken wings – ignoring the high fat content for a moment, these were the most deliciously rich and garlicky finger-licking good wings I have ever eaten in my life. They come to the table resting on fresh green lettuce leaves, and are fried to a perfect golden brown, and topped with mounds of crispy garlic. I’m a garlic fiend, in case you haven’t deduced it by now. It may be a bit scary for those watching their weight (the buttery taste is immense) and those frightened of going home smelling of garlic, but to that I say HAR! Try it at least once.

Anyways, after going down that tangent of praise for Phở, I was most disappointed when I went for lunch today with my mom. It is well worth noting never to go there during the lunch/dinner rush (wise advice for any foodie who wants to get their money’s worth) – the quality of the food inevitably falters because of the chaos.

We ordered two bowls of phở bò, translated literally in Chinese as ‘raw beef hor fun noodles’, and a side of Vietnamese spring rolls (which were fine and not worth going into detail about). When they finally came to our table, my beef slices, drowning in hot steaming broth, were completely cooked save for one or two corners that were gasping for air above the surface. I was furious but (and this is just me) I wasn’t bothered to complain – the last time I did so at the restaurant, the waiter laughed and told me to order the beef to come to the table separately instead. The only reason why I hadn’t done so this time was because I didn’t believe they would do that again, as that last time had been an anomaly. How unfortunate then, that the same fate would befall my poor bowl of noodles.

When it was time to get the bill, my mom challenged the waitress and asked pointedly, “So, what’s the difference between your raw beef noodles and cooked beef noodles?” – testing to see if she had just gotten our order wrong. She hadn’t. When we mentioned that our beef slices were cooked through to the point of dryness, she flippantly suggested we order our beef separately next time.

Are you for real? When I ask for something that is on the menu, I expect pretty much for the food that is served in front of me to be what was advertised on the menu. I don’t go into a restaurant for sashimi and and expect to receive a platter of nearly-cooked fish, do I? I don’t specifically say to the barista ‘extra-hot’ please, and expect to get a lukewarm latte, am I right? You say raw beef, I want raw beef. It can be cooked from the heat slightly, even I can’t deny the work of heat molecules, but I don’t expect bleeding slices of sashimi beef either. I just don’t expect something the consistency of overcooked roast on (or shall I say, under) my noodles. Now, I understand that during the lunch rush, bowls may be left on their own before a frazzled waiter/waitress comes over to deliver it, but at least tell us that if we weren’t satisfied, we could have it exchanged next time. Don’t tell us to do some extra footwork to ensure that the food in front of us is the same as what is on the menu.

It’s quite appalling that the same thing happened once at a more high-end restaurant, Rice Paper in World Trade Center, also in Causeway Bay (the above image is from that visit). This time it was blatantly obvious that we were served beef that wasn’t fresh, and possibly of the roast variety – the texture and colour said it all. There was a metallic sheen on of the pieces that raised some alarm bells. This time though, at least the manager struck it off the bill.

I’m not giving up on Phở though, because at least on three other occasions I have had good quality food and service. I suspect it was because of the lunch rush (thus my advice at the beginning of this post). I think they need to work on their customer relations though – to brush us off in that way and suggest that we should do something to ensure that our food was made proper, was simply unbelievable.

But anyways, go there when it’s calmer, and try the chicken wings. Trust me.

Phở Vietnamese Restaurant
G/F, Circle Tower
28 Tang Lung Street
Causeway Bay
Hong Kong
Tel: 2574 177

L8-3, Megabox
Enterprise Square 5
38 Wang Chiu Road
Kowloon Bay, Kowloon
Tel: 2359 0117

nourishing nouilles (or, phở fa’sho!)

An appropriate title methinks, considering Vietnam’s French colonial past (though granted, phở, unlike bánh mì or Vietnamese coffee, is through and through a pure national dish without European influence I correct this – since it was the Chinese who introduced the rice noodles, and the French who introduced eating red meat into Vietnam!).

Vietnamese food is definitely on the rise, at least in my world. In the span of a few days I’ve made and eaten Vietnamese food, edited and rewrote some sections in a feature on Vietnamese flavours (unfortunately I couldn’t rewrite as much as I would have liked, as in the end it is the intellectual property of the original writer), and jealousy watched the Hairy Bikers sample the best of Saigon’s street food. And it couldn’t be a better time, what with the absurdly chilling wet weather we’ve been experiencing in England. What better than a hot, fragrant, steaming bowl of phở to warm oneself up with?

Well, to be honest, to quote my rewrite, “Vietnamese cooking is perfect for any time of the year. The traditional dishes on offer provide the best of both worlds. There are hearty, full flavours on the one hand – a perfect antidote to the festive hedonism in the winter; and on the other, light, tangy and deliciously spicy dishes that are a surprisingly refreshing way to beat the heat come summertime.”

Phở bò (beef noodles) though, is not a simple dish to make. The broth makes the dish, and the broth (usually made with beef shin, or knuckle) requires hours upon hours of boiling and simmering to get that perfect, meaty flavour. But with the right key ingredients, you too can make a cheat’s version of phở bò .

One thing about me is that I’m awful at following, and thus, writing recipes. I never owned a measuring cup until my flatmate bought us one (for the primary purpose of baking). My teaspoons and tablespoons aren’t actual measures, more like small glugs or big glugs (or when I feel the need to be slightly more accurate, the small spoons and big spoons in my utensil drawer). So I’m afraid I can’t really give a recipe with measures. Instead I’ll try and guide you through my poor excuse of a recipe…

Phở bò (Vietnamese beef noodles)
For the broth:
1 beef stock cube (for myself, I used half a cube)
1/2 small onion, finely sliced
pinch of cinnamon
bay leaf
2 tbsp fish sauce (nuoc nam)
1/2 lime, juice only
things I would have wanted to have in the stock as well:
kaffir lime leaf
star anise (v. important!)
For the noodles:
1 bundle rice noodles
1/2 red chilli, finely chopped
1 spring onion, chopped
1 large handful beansprouts
And of course the obligatory beef. I used a small portion of rump steak.

If you want, you can peel the onions and chargrill them over a gas flame first. It intensifies the flavours later on to in the broth.
1. Dissolve your stock cube in a saucepan full of boiling water, add the sliced onions, the cinnamon, bay leaf, and if you have any of the other ingredients I wish I had, add them too. Boil for five minutes and then lower the heat to let the broth simmer, and let it reduce down to about 2/3 of its original volume. I’d let it simmer for about 20 minutes, but since we don’t really have any real beef bones or anything of the sort to get any real flavours out, you don’t have to leave it too long.
2. Add the fish sauce to taste, then squeeze in the lime juice.
3. Soften the rice noodles by submerging them in a bowl of hot water for about five minutes.
4. Prepare the beef by frying in a bit of sesame oil for about 2-3 minutes on each side, if you want it to be on the rare side (remember when you pour the hot broth over the thinly sliced beef, it will continue to cook). Cook for longer if you prefer. Remove from the heat and allow to rest for five minutes, then thinly slice.
5. Drain the noodles and place in a bowl. Top with the beansprouts. If you can take the heat of the chilli, just sprinkle them raw over the noodles. If not, you can add it to the broth before you serve to cook for a bit to remove the intensity of the spiciness. Arrange the beef slices around.
6. Pour the steaming hot broth over the noodles, and garnish with a generous sprinkling of spring onions. Enjoy!

I definitely need to work on my recipe writing, but hopefully you’ll find my ‘cheat’s phở ‘ delicious :)